Why Sideswipe Collects Spoons
by Molten-Ashes
Summary: "Why!" Sideswipe sobbed into the Rec-Room table, "They were in their prime!"


Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R

(Crack, lots of it. Enjoy!)

* * *

><p>It had been a normal day on the ARK.<p>

Sunstreaker whined about the quality of earth paint, Sideswipe pranked a foul mouthed Cliffjumper, and Bluestreak accidently bulls eyed Ironhide in the aft with an acid pellet when he asked Prowl for a shot of his acid rifle. Ratchet had a hissy fit.

All in all; it was a very normal day.

On his fourth trip to Prowl's office that morning, with Mr. Bucket and Miss. Toothbrush in tow, Sideswipe waited for the door to open, "Guess what number I'm thinking Prowl!" he called with a gleeful grin as the door dutifully hissed as it reeled back into the slot. "You'll never get it this time!"

"Sideswipe, clean out the brig and then put yourself in it." The SIC said stoically without looking up from his data-pads, "And the number you are thinking is; four million, seven hundred thousand, two hundred and eighty four point nine."

"Frag it!" the red twin cursed, barely in the door before turning on his heel strut and stomping out, Mr. Bucket clanking against his plating as Miss. Toothbrush rattled inside it. "I swear on Mrs. Mop's handle that mech is fragging psychic."

During his cleaning, Sideswipe liked to think his cleaning tools were having an affair; Mr. Bucket was fooling around with Miss. Toothbrush while Mrs. Mop stayed home in the cupboard and looked after the sponges. Sunstreaker was the one who found him that evening, still enacting out his little imaginary play time even as he scrubbed the brig to an immaculate sheen. The highly polished frontline warrior opened the cell that his brother was currently cleaning in and called out to his daydreaming sibling.

"Sideswipe!"

"What?" The red and black twin yelped, tossing Miss. Toothbrush to the floor in fright as the little daydream came to its climax. Mrs. Mop was going to walk in any second and discover the affair! "Knock next time! Frag it! Knock!"

"Sorry." The golden sibling replied, rolling his optics as Sideswipe stammered out.

"Did you see anything?"

"No, I didn't see you playing with the cleaning tools again." the sociopathic twin said blandly, shaking his helm and leaving his sibling to it.

_**==Prowl's office== **_

"You do realise that Sideswipe has developed the sort of affection that a youngling has for its toys about the cleaning tools, right?" Sunstreaker asked wearily to the working SIC. "He was acting out an episode of Kitchen Sinks with them for Pit's sake!"

"Sunstreaker, this is a win, win situation." Prowl said as he rejected Jazz's request for a NASCAR approved race track outside of the ARK. "You get peace and quiet. I get peace and quiet, the ARK gets cleaned because Primus above, I know the bots on cleaning shift don't do it, and Sideswipe gets to act like a youngling playing with some toys."

"And you're happy about this?" The golden mech asked in confusion as Jazz danced in the door with his late mission reports and bestowed them on Prowl's desk as if they were sacred artefacts, before dancing back out the door with his music on full blast, but not before blowing the black and white Praxian a kiss.

"I don't mind it." The SIC shrugged, his wings twitching in what Bluestreak had told him was amusement. "But if you want your brother weaned off of his exceptionally productive 'play time', I shall send Grimlock and Swoop to assist. They have an irrational fear of cleaning tools."

"Locked you up did it?" Sunstreaker asked smugly crossing his arms over his chest plates as Prowl summoned the Dinobots to 'do the deed'.

"No, they nearly torched Wheeljack and made a run for it when he called them for a bath." The Praxian blandly replied. "It was very amusing."

_**=== An Hour later=== **_

"Why?" Sideswipe sobbed into the Rec-Room table, "They were in their prime!"

Sunstreaker, secretly in on the dreadful 'murder' of Mr. Bucket and Miss. Toothbrush, patted his brother awkwardly on the back strut with a wince.

"Not to worry Sides." Bluestreak soothed patting the ruby and ebony twin's servo, "Wheeljack said it was a clean death. Mr. Bucket is now going to be used as a tea tray. Look! There he goes!"

Cliffjumper walked past their secluded little table with a flattened, polished circle in his servos, several cubes of energon balanced on the platter that had slightly crinkled edges and a flattened handle. "I suppose we can call him Mr. Tray now. And Miss. Toothbrush's remains are going to get melted down and remade into Ratchet's new pliers. You'll see her next time you go into the Medbay with something suck in your chassis."

Sideswipe's sobs increased tenfold, enveloping his sibling in a hug that was totally ruining their tough mech image to the rest of the bots in the Rec-Room.

"Not helping Blue." Sunstreaker chuckled patting his brother on the head. "Sideswipe, get off!"

"Nuh-uh." The warrior sniffled hugging himself closer.

"Will you get off it I told you in a roundabout way, that I was the one who sent Grimlock and Swoop to kill your cleaning tools?" the golden twin asked trying to pry his brother from his frame; he was leaving smudges!

"What?" the red mech cried, letting go of his brother to point at him in horror as Bluestreak giggled in his seat. "You?" With that, both brothers started the Rec-Room's monthly brawl.

Prowl, sitting in his office sighed at the noise, called Ratchet and pulled out his Christmas list for the Autobots and in the blank space where Sideswipe's name was, he wrote:

Sideswipe: A new Bucket and Toothbrush.

The next day, Sideswipe swore of cleaning appliances and started collecting Spoons.


End file.
